Oh, Death
by SilvertonguedClotpole
Summary: THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY- Hargreeves had called them together when 'Number Six' hadn't returned from his latest mission. The siblings don't find it much of an worry at first. Until Klaus goes silent, lets his vodka spill on the floor and stares at a space with all the look of a man who's just seen a ghost. Basically, the day Ben died and their (mainly Klaus') reaction.


_**It's probably no-where near what really happened, I couldn't even remember if we were given an actual age but I had another burst of an idea and here we are. I'm sorry, I just love Klaus, Diego and Ben and this means I like to make them suffer- or, Klaus suffers and Diego and Ben fight over who hugs him first. No beta, all mistakes my own. No copyright, etc etc. Hope you enjoy.**_

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Death always hung around them. It was hard for it not to when you were a bunch of 'superheroes' fighting to save the day on a regular basis. From very young ages they were taught to expect it, to try to avoid it themselves and only use it as a last resort for an enemy. But taught it they were and sadly, used to it they became. Sir Hargreeves sent them on dangerous missions only a few short years into full training and it hadn't been long until they came across their first dead body.

At the time, surprisingly enough upon reflection, Klaus had been the one least affected.

Over the years it happened more and more. Sometimes it was a victim they had been too late to save, someone begging for help before their cries were cut short and they choked on their own blood. Other times it was the perpetrators. The 'badguys' being ripped apart by Ben or thrown out of a building by Luther. Sometimes an over ambitious cop would come rushing in and prematurely shoot, or get caught in the crossfire themselves. Once or twice it was nearly the children, and it wasn't uncommon for one of them to find themselves laid on pristine sheets with Pogo and Mom watching over them. On one occasion, they could have sworn they'd lost Klaus, almost certain they had heard bone snap and his lifeless body lying there as they fought on. They must have been wrong, because 5 minutes later he appeared by Allison's side stretching his neck and talking to an invisible person in front of him.

There had been Five. He was never officially reported as dead, there was never a body and never a true funeral. Klaus never found him and so they kept up hope that one day he would return.

And then. Then there was Ben.

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The 'children' were getting on now, at an age where it grew harder for them to work as a team or to even stick around the house and do as 'Father' wanted. The Academy weren't really an academy anymore, they were a group of people raised together who were finding in increasingly difficult to stay in their childhood home and live the lives that were supposedly laid out for them. They wanted freedom.

Allison continually strove for fame, but not just as the child hero she had once been. She craved the cameras, the flashes and screams of fans but no longer did she want the misery, stress and action that came with it. Throughout the years she had always enjoyed the interviews and the mini films they had done, the adverts and photoshoots. This was what she wanted. And so she often found herself down in local studios or standing in lines for auditions and shows.

Klaus became ever dependent on substances. His freedom coming from alcohol and cigarettes. Hargreeves had managed to keep some control over it for a few years, but once 'Number Four' had started sneaking out of the house or not turning up for missions, he never truly tried keeping his son away from the poisons he had found. Klaus spent most of the time away from the mansion, lying rough or staying up all night and only returning the next day to sleep it off. He became a lost cause and nobody truly minded.

Vanya wanted nothing to do with the whole thing. The moment her Father lost interest in them as a group she knew she could get away. There was a flat, a small, dingy thing that was within her price range for obvious reasons. She didn't stay there the whole time, making her exit gentle and subtle. At first she would spend 2 nights a week there. And then 3. Then 5. Until she was never questioned about her whereabouts or why her things were starting to vanish and so she permanently moved out. Nobody ever really bothered her and she couldn't decide if she was happy or sad about that.

Diego lost a lot of interest in the Academy itself, not really wanting to be a part of the masked team lead by his Father and his favourite protégé. Regardless, he continued his work as 'Number Two' but with his own rules and his own ways. He fought crime, partly through traditional means and partly as the masked vigilante he 'was'. Diego would split his time between his old home and new. A young lady took some of his attention too, her being just as beautiful as her name.

Luther and Ben were the only two really still doing their job on a regular occasion. If Hargreeves was lucky, he could get Numbers One, Two, Three and Six out together on missions. Other times he would have to choose tasks primarily for One and Six.

Ben wasn't happy. He didn't particularly enjoy what he did, he never had. But he felt some sort of obligation to the man they called Father and so he tried to do the best he could. Some of his time (and a lot of energy) was spent following Klaus around, or trying to find his hide outs when he had been away for a day too long, and it had shown when he had begun to slip up on missions. His Father would berate him and make him complete an extra lesson or spend an hour more in training. He wanted out, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do so.

Luther was Number One. And Number One he was. He would dutifully do as Hargreeves told him and exactly on point. One foot out of line and he didn't need the words or disappointed glare of their Father, he would punish himself and train until any guilt had gone. He had no plans to leave and would often hold 'family meetings' to try to persuade the others to stay or return. To him, the Umbrella Academy was still a team, they still fought crime and saved the day. In reality, _he_ wasThe Academy.

They were 19, only a few months off being 20, when things really took a turn for the worst.

"Six has not returned from his mission."

The 'children' glanced around, a range of worried and despondent looks on their faces.

"Where is he?"

Reginald sighed. "If I knew that Number Seven do you really think I would be standing here with you all now?"

He wasn't sad. It was like he had lost his favourite pen, frustrated and disgruntled at the inconvenience.

"Well, what was his mission? Where was he?"

"Maybe if you had shown up Number Three, you would know."

There was silence. None of the children had turned up when called- Luther being the exception, out on his own mission at the time.

"Number Six was dealing with an underground fight club, suspected within the basement of the downtown shopping precinct. They were choosing their fighters as they shopped, following them home and then 'entering' them into the fight for their lives. Number Six was to take down the leaders and any supporters before rescuing the victims. Simple."

'Simple'. Of course it would be for their Father, that was a walk in the park apparently.

They had, really, dealt with worse odds and far more fucked up situations but they usually preferred such tasks in twos. Underground dens often didn't quite turn out as expected.

"How long?"

Reginald afforded Klaus with the look he thought he deserved.

Klaus sighed before asking again. "How long ago should he have returned?"

"I sent him away 3 hours ago."

The group weren't quite sure if to laugh or just walk off. 3 hours? That was nothing. If it had been a day then, yes, that would warrant this awkward family meeting. But 3 hours?

"He's probably scoping out the area. Or playing the scene, getting a good sniff of what he's dealing with."

"Diego's right. I was 5 hours in that suspected drug den last month, we knew they were all involved but I knew we had to get the dealer. If I'd have gone in full blast I probably would have only gotten him 2 years in prison rather than his 6."

Klaus rolled his eyes. "Alright Luther, we've heard your heroic story before. Well done. Gold star." He sarcastically clapped his hands.

Luther sighed, visibly swallowing his come back and letting his anger leak out of him. "We'll wait another few hours, if we hear nothing, we'll take a look. Worst thing we can do is go barging down there now and blowing his cover. We're all here, so we can all do our bit."

Ah Luther, ever the leader.

There wasn't really any acknowledgement or agreement but they split off and waited for any further instructions. Allison took to replying to interview emails, Vanya picked up a book and began to read, and Klaus propped himself on the bar and took out the cheapest looking bottle of vodka from his apparently huge coat pocket. Diego and Luther just sort of hovered, caught in awkward states of 'what to do'.

They carried on, semi normal, for an hour. It would never be as they once were, there were too many cracks and missing pieces for them to be The Umbrella Academy again. Even conversations got awkward, the small talk soon running out and the chirping of crickets was needed to break the silence. Klaus would occasionally giggle at something his tipsy mind produced, or Allison would scoff at something written about her in the latest article. The turning of pages from Vanya didn't help much either and the ticking of the clock became the most constant sound in the room.

After 90 minutes Klaus kicked off from the bar, walking over to the small radio tucked away in a corner. The airwaves crackled as they came to life and grumbled and crunched as he found a decent station, some semi familiar melody playing out. He began twirling and swaying, pulling faces at his siblings as they watched on. Allison giggled but tried to appear mature, Vanya smiled shyly and Diego and Luther gave him stern looks.

"If Dad hears that you're in trouble." Luther grunted.

"Oh no!" The mock horror in his voice would have made Shakespeare proud. "Not the wrath of Daddy."

Completely ignoring everything, Klaus continued to prance around, finally getting what you just had to accept as a smile from Diego when he took Allison's shawl and recreated a signature Stevie Nicks twirl. As he passed the bar he picked up his bottle, taking another swig and used it as a dance partner- that didn't particularly amuse Diego though.

For a few moments it was almost homely again. The siblings were enjoying the company and could forget their troubles. Hargreeves could walk in at any moment and it would be broken, or eventually they would tire of watching Klaus prat about but in that moment it was as if they were young again, allowed a few hours to be kids and do stupid things.

All too suddenly Klaus stopped dead, mid flourish. He stared off at a spot near the fireplace, eyes fixed on something beyond the 'earthly realm'.

He looked around at his siblings, all of whom still stared at him. Almost in slow motion, his gaze went to and from the spot. His eyes seemed to glaze over and they wondered if he had taken something that had finally hit.

Diego even voiced his thought. "He tripping?"

No-one was certain but they knew something wasn't right. He had started to shake and the eyeliner he had taken to wearing a few months back smudged as wetness spilled over the edges.

The bottle that was still in his hand was let go, smashing into shards and spilling the cheap booze within all over the floor, shocking all but Klaus.

"You...no...?" His voice was unrecognizable. It was broken. Almost dead.

A few seconds passed and he took a step forward, his eyes wandering up and down the spot they were transfixed on. The glass beneath his bare feet crunched and Vanya winced as she saw the first traces of blood but he didn't seem to pay it any mind. One of his hands shot out, reaching for something that wasn't there.

A gasp and then he truly was sobbing. A wail rushing from his mouth, one hand on his stomach and his body heaving like he wanted to be sick. Instead he stood there and broke down, the sobs turning to agony, his breathing broken and too harsh. He vibrated, body twisting in on itself and looking about ready to collapse.

Diego ran forward, catching him just as he went down. It was almost like when a tower fell, slow at first, and then crumbling all at once.

Klaus' entire body pulsated in Diego's grip. "Klaus what is it? Klaus?"

The young man tried to point but his limbs were limp in his brother's embrace. He wasn't breathing properly, caught between hyperventilating and cries of despair.

Footprints behind them sounded. They were about to be in a world of shit.

Sir Hargreeves took in the scenes, his face close to furious had it not been so distant. He didn't deserve them any niceties or familiarities, merely looked over them, talking above their heads.

"I have just been informed..." He took one pause, the only evidence that he was possibly affected by what he was about to say. "Number Six was killed today. His body shall be returned to us. I have begun procedures and you do as you wish, if you want to 'say goodbye', I will be holding a memorial tomorrow evening."

With that, he nodded his head and left again. There were no questions or comments but if there had been he would not have listened anyway. Instead, the group all looked back to the spot where Klaus had so vigorously reacted to.

Diego looked down at the man in his arms, suddenly looking so small and young again. He had stopped crying and his breathing was almost normal, but the distant, broken look he wore was possibly far worse. Diego knew that he had seen his brother break, right there, right then.

Luther had made his way to Allison, the two of them weeping together, holding on to the other and whispering reassurances. Vanya had dropped her book, her small hands over her mouth, fighting back tears and looking toward Diego and Klaus. Diego motioned for her to come over but she stayed where she was. He didn't fight her.

After what felt like a lifetime of pure silence and misery, the form in his lap stirred. Klaus slowly stumbled into a standing position and took one more look at the space near the fireplace. He gave a sad smile and walked away.

There was no joke. No ridiculous or unnecessary comment. No sound.

His footprints left bloody marks as he made his way toward his Father's personal cupboard. With an almost practiced pick of the lock he was in and grabbing the most expensive and rarest whisky. Foregoing a glass, he simply raised the bottle toward the rest of the room and downed half the contents in one go.

Across the room, the ghost of their brother felt the anchor he had on this world weaken and snap.

Ben shed a tear and vanished.

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_**Again, thank you for the lovely words on my last story, I hope I can continue to get even smaller ones out to add to this wonderfully growing fandom. (And hopefully some of my other fandoms). **_

_**Take Care. **_


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